There Is No Danger
by Elda Gee
Summary: Haytham meant more to Charles than anyone knew and his death tore him apart. Overcome with grief Charles recalls his last memory with the Grandmaster of the Templar Order. Rated M just to be safe.


**A/N: I'll be the first to confess that I absolutely loathed Charles Lee at the start of AC3 (and pretty much throughout the majority of the game) but that funeral speech of his and the tears in his eyes asdfghjkl He loved Haytham so much and I loved Haytham so much and he cried and I cried and darn you Connor! But that part in his speech where he says "He told me there was no danger" c'mon, that's practically begging for a fic! So here you have it, enjoy! (I'm not even sorry)**

The loud sound of heavy boots racing up a flight of stairs amplified in volume as they neared the office of Charles Lee. Just as Charles finished the final sentence of his report the sound of footsteps seized, followed by three urgent knocks on his wooden door. Placing his quill back in its ink pot and increasing the radiance of the oil lamp that sat upon his desk, Charles ordered the messenger to enter.

The man's face was flushed red and small beads of perspiration were evident on his forehead even from a distance. Despite his best efforts to regain his composure, the man's breathing was still uneven and strained. "Forgive me for intruding on you at such late an hour, sir," the man managed to say interrupted by heavy gasps for air. "It better be important," Charles replied, rising from his chair and facing the man who stood in the doorway.

"Grandmaster Kenway is dead, sir." Charles felt the blood drain from his body. "We received news from Fort George moments ago. His body was found –"

"Get out," Charles interrupted in a harsh whisper, no longer hearing a word of what the man was saying.

"I'm sorry sir?"

"GET OUT!"

The messenger jumped in fright and fled quicker than he had come, hearing the office door slam shut behind him.

"Haytham. Dead. No." Charles slumped down, his back resting against the door that still shook from the force of the slam. "That kid!" Hatred burned through his veins. Blinded by rage and fuelled with anger Charles ran rampant in his room. Objects collided loudly with the wall, glass shattered and posters were torn to shreds as the inanimate items in his office became the recipients of his wrath. He was shouting and cursing but was barely aware of the words pouring out of his mouth, except that they all condemned that wretched assassin, promising that he would be made to regret ever leaving his mother's sorry womb.

Charles approached his table with the intent of throwing the large furnishing out the window of the two-storey building to further vent his frustrations. A small, gleaming object close to the oil lamp however, stilled him completely. He took the necklace in his hand and ran his thumb over the smooth texture of the mysterious object that hung from it.

"Keep it safe."

The words of Haytham resonated in Charles's mind as though they had just been uttered beside his ear. Charles crumpled to the floor, gripping onto the necklace for dear life, overcome with pure grief. His body felt weak from both physical and emotional strain as the initial adrenaline rush wore off. He shook uncontrollably and felt hot tears prick his eyes.

"Haytham" he repeated the name in broken sobs, unable to say anything more and with a last hope that his feeble cries would be answered with that familiar voice. But no answer came and still Charles lay on the cold wooden floor feeling broken and lost. Something he had not felt since his initiation into the Templar Order; his first true memory with Haytham Kenway.

It was not his first memory with the Grandmaster but his last that repeated in his mind now. They had been in Fort George at the time. A meeting had been held between the remaining brothers who commanded relatively powerful posts in the Templar Order. Many had been lost to the blade of an assassin whose plans and fate they now discussed at the table of which Haytham was the head and Charles at the closest seat to his right.

They discussed little that was new to Charles and he remained only moderately interested in what the rest were heatedly debating. That was until Haytham began instructing each member as to their next assignment at the end of which he declared that he would stay in Fort George and Charles would take his previously arranged role to return to New York and handle matters of concern there.

Upon hearing this sudden change Charles rose from his chair and began to protest; "But Grandmaster –!" "There will be no objections, Charles," Haytham immediately interrupted. For a long moment not a sound could be heard in the room as Haytham and Charles stared directly into each other's eyes. Charles wore a look of desperation, his eyebrows furrowed and stare intense whilst Haytham looked on with calm disapproval, resolute in his decision and commanding an air of superiority.

Charles was the first to look away after which he resumed his place on his seat, still looking discontent with the grandmaster's decision. Without looking to his right or acknowledging the recent passing, Haytham continued the meeting, reiterating the decided plans and eventually bringing the meeting to a close. Everyone dispersed in a matter of minutes, leaving to make certain necessary arrangements or to board an appropriate ship to sail them to their destination.

Before leaving the room Haytham informed Charles that he was to leave for New York the following morning. This suited Charles perfectly well as that meant he had time to question Haytham's decision as they would be lodging in the same tavern, owned by one of their kinsmen.

Charles returned to his room where he wrote the day's proceedings and relevant notes in his journal. When the ink on the page had dried completely he closed the book and placed it in the table drawer. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. When he opened his eyes again he noticed that the sun was making its slow decent into the ocean. It was a calming sight even for one who was not the greatest admirer of nature's beauty. It was also a reminder that he needed to light his oil lamp and speak to Haytham before it became too late.

Oil lantern in hand, Charles approached the door to Haytham's quarters which were positioned at the farthest end of the hallway, secluded away from the rest of the rooms in the tavern. After only a moment's hesitation Charles raised his hand and knocked thrice on the door. He waited but when he didn't get a response he knocked again. Still there was silence and Charles began to wonder if Haytham had gone to sleep early or if he was even in his room at all...

As he was debating whether to try knocking again or just leave and try again later he heard Haytham call from inside for him to come in. Charles opened the door and closed it shut behind him after entering. He saw that Haytham was standing in front of an open window peering outside into the darkness. There was a cool breeze flowing through the window leaving the room perceptibly colder than the hallway.

As Haytham closed the window Charles set his lamp on the nearby table. "I thought you might drop by," Haytham said, breaking the silence and turning to look at Charles with a small smile on his face. Charles looked down and back up again before replying in return; "Yes, there are matters I would like to discuss with you, personally." Both were aware of that to which Charles alluded without needing its mention. Haytham nodded, his smile still intact and proceeded to walk towards Charles only to stop when he stood a few inches from the man. "Dear, dear Charles, won't you sit down?" Haytham extended his arm and gestured to the large bed that lay to his right.

Charles opened his mouth to say something but when Haytham tilted his head to the side, ever so slightly, he thought better of it and sat obediently on the bed. Meanwhile Haytham leaned against his desk that stood directly opposite the bed and just far enough so that the two were a few feet away from each other. He took off his hat and shoulder cape, placing them both on the table before resting his hands against either side of the timber creating a relaxed atmosphere yet retaining his superiority over his comrade.

Seeing as the grandmaster had no intentions of initiating the conversation, Charles began; "Haytham –" "Yes Charles" There was a short pause before Charles continued; "You know why I'm here. I refuse to trade places with you; we've been working on this plan far too long to change it so suddenly. Have you forgotten...must I remind you that we've taken extreme measures to make sure the assassin would come to this very fort upon our own terms? And now he comes, blind to all except his own ambitions, ignorant of his death that I will gladly deliver upon his arrival, and you wish to deny me this? Why, Haytham?" Charles's voice had risen and he was standing now unable to restrain his desperation.

Haytham pushed himself off his desk and slowly paced towards Charles, his hands held behind his back. "I have decided that it will be more appropriate for it to be I that greets and ends the assassin," Haytham responded simply, inching closer to Charles. "But, it's not safe! He comes with an armed ship and perhaps multiple of them. We cannot risk losing our Grandmaster," Haytham was standing only an inch away from Charles now who looked to his side before adding with resignation; "I can't risk losing you."

Charles looked back at Haytham when he felt a hand on his left shoulder. Haytham was smiling more noticeably as he pressed firmly against Charles's shoulder until he was again sitting on the bed. "There is no danger," Haytham said, his hand now occupied with caressing Charles's neck, slowly trailing up to his face. "We are Templars Haytham, danger is the air we breathe. But this is different, this danger is avoidable. Please Haytham, as your fellow brother and second-in-charge, I ask this of you," Charles closed his eyes now as Haytham's hands cupped his face, "as your lover."

Haytham moved his right hand so that he was holding the back of Charles's head and brought his face close to his ear. "There is no danger," he repeated in a whisper, Charles feeling his warm breathe ghost over his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. The next moment Haytham had his lips firmly pressed against those of Charles who responded eagerly. When Haytham pulled away it was only to strip the man before him of his jacket and the garbs covering his upper body. The light from the lamp threw shadows over Charles's bare chest which Haytham traced with his fingers.

When Charles made to undress the other, Haytham caught both his hands in his own and held them on either side of the man before claiming the man's mouth a second time. Charles moaned into the kiss as Haytham pressed against his body until they were both awkwardly lying atop the bed, their feet still touching the floor. "Haytham," Charles breathed as they both came up for air. "It's been too long," Haytham murmured against his skin as he peppered his neck and chest with kisses. "It's been just over a week," Charles retorted, still somewhat breathless. "Too long," Haytham answered, earning a chuckle from the man beneath him. In a devilish whisper that sent blood rushing to Charles's groin Haytham declared; "I'm going to make sweet love to you _all_ night," and bit down on the flesh between the man's neck and shoulder. Charles hissed, his body only aching with more need as Haytham began to grind against him.

Just then Haytham stood up and it took all his control for Charles not to curse at the smiling man. "You look like an abandoned puppy," Haytham teased with a laugh as he began to undo his clothes. "Fuck me," Charles growled and was pleased to see the dark desire that clouded Haytham's eyes. "I'm going to," Haytham said menacingly; "Take your pants off and get into bed. I'm going to make sure you remember this night for the rest of your life."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Charles was sure the entire fort had heard their _passionate_ love-making session. He was now resting on his side with Haytham's arm draped around his hot torso, still trying to regain control over his unsteady breathing. He could feel every inch of Haytham's body pressed against his and it was by far the greatest feeling in the world. Granted it was odd that Haytham was being more affectionate than usual but Charles definitely wasn't complaining.

He could hear or moreover _feel_ Haytham humming as he had his head rested on his shoulder now. It was absolute bliss and Charles wished that this moment would last indefinitely. Just as Charles was about to drift off to sleep, Haytham stopped humming and began to move around. Charles turned over onto his back to see Haytham pull out an object from the top drawer of the bedside table. As he struggled to make out the object in the darkness Haytham brought it closer to him before placing it over his head and around his neck. The object was cold against his hot skin and he held it in his hand to take a better look at it. Haytham was on his side, using his elbow to keep his head propped up and watching Charles as he examined the necklace.

"This is...but why are you giving me this?" Charles asked quickly upon realisation of what the object was. Haytham would only be giving it to him if he feared it would be taken or more alarmingly, if he didn't mean to return. "Shhh, it's just for safekeeping. I'll be coming back for it. Keep it safe." If Charles had only known in that moment what the future would hold, he would never have left his lover's side, but instead they shared a final kiss and were taken into sleep's embrace.


End file.
